But instead, I said, “Not lately.”
And then the thought hit me.
Sharp. Fast. Desperate.
“There’s a view,” I said suddenly. “Up on top of the city. You can see all of LA from there. It’s beautiful, peaceful too. I think you’d love it.”
She blinked. “Now?”
“Tonight,” I corrected, voice quieter now. “When it’s dark. Lights are better then.”
Her fingers flexed slightly, the arm that had just been freed from the cast moving so gently, almost testing its strength again.She looked at the bike, then at me, and there was something in her eyes.
Something that said she already knew.
That this wasn’t just a ride. It was goodbye, dressed as something simple.
She didn’t hesitate, though.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Tonight.”
And that was it.
That one word,okay, was enough to light up something inside me and break it at the same time.
Because I could already feel it. The weight of the moment before it even arrived. The way the night would stretch too long and too short all at once. The way her hair would catch the wind. The way the city lights would blur in her eyes. The way I’d try to memorise every single second because deep down, I knew—
After tonight…
There wouldn’t be another.
So I just nodded, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
“Tonight, then.”
She smiled back, small, faint, but real. And walked ahead toward the elevator while I stayed behind for a second longer, looking at that old, dust-covered bike like it was my last shot at keeping her a little longer.
If this is the end,I thought, watching her step into the elevator, her brown hair catching the last streak of sunlight.
Then let me at least end it with her by my side.
—
The whole afternoon was a blur.
Couldn’t focus. Couldn’t sit still.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her standing there in the garage earlier, eyes locked on the bike like she’d just found a buried part of me I forgot existed.
So I moved.
Did something. Anything.
Drove downtown. Bought another helmet, matte black, sleek, small enough to fit her. Polished both until they reflected the light from the ceiling.
Then I cleaned the bike.
It had been years since I touched it, but the second my fingers brushed the handles, something in my chest loosened.
